Barbarians at the Gate
by Plasmocat
Summary: Can Muggles have really found a way to dispel magic? This is supposed to be a Snape romantic adventure, but the story's taking a life of its own. Pls give advice, R&R. Chpt 4: "Know Thine Enemy" added
1. The Barbarian

Dedication: This work is dedicated to all the librarians out there who disregard the boundaries of stereotype & tradition. You know who you are. 

Note: There are two new characters (so far) in this fiction that are beings of my own creation. Please feel free to review the story, but spare this poor newbie the flames of your hatred. If you have criticism, by all means post your comments. All reviews are welcomed. Just phrase them constructively. Thanks. 

Also, I do have a "sci-fi" explanation for the magic-resistant technology used in this story, which will be explained later. If you're curious, and can't wait for it, check my email addy in the profile, and I'll explain. 

Disclaimer:I don't own any character or attribute of the Harry Potter realm. This work is intended as fanfiction, and therefore I receive no benefit or profit from it. If you really want to sue me, the best you can do is take my cat … please. 

**Chapter One:The Barbarian**   
_***I do not separate people, as do the narrow-minded, into Greeks and barbarians. I am not interested in the origin or race of citizens. I only distinguish them on the basis of their virtue. For me each good foreigner is a Greek and each bad Greek is worse than a barbarian. – Alexander the Great***_

Harry adjusted his robes calmly and got a nudge in the side from Ron for it. "Primping for Cho, are we?" Ron asked him with a wink. 

"Shut it, Ron," Harry grinned. He noticed that the last of Ravensclaw had filed into the Great Hall. The Prefect waved him to move the line forward. Turning to the students behind them he called, "Alright Griffyndor, ready to march!" 

Harry was finding his new responsibilities as Head Boy in his Sixth year at Hogwarts to be more challenging than he'd expected, and the term hadn't even officially started yet. He should have realized that his own behavior in his first five years was mirrored in the curiosity and spirit of many, if not most, of the other students. He's already intervened between two arguments, caught Neville's runaway toad, Trevor (again), and had been forced to leave the line to find two Second Years who had gotten lost on the staircases between the Hall and their rooms. He looked behind him, and was relieved that his charges appeared to have settled down enough to be following him obediently. No wonder Percy had always seemed so full of his own importance. 

The hall was decorated, as always for the Sorting Ceremony, with the sky enchanted to resemble the night sky and blazing with hundred of candles. Harry scanned the room for Cho, however, and caught her watching him with eyes laughing just before he was ready to seat his students. He gave her a brief nod and a smile. She winked in return, and he blushed a little, despite himself. 

"I think she fancies you, mate," Ron muttered to him jokingly. 

"Ron, keep it up, and I'll leave your underwear in Hermione's Book of Spells," Harry muttered under his breath. They both knew it was an empty threat, but Ron groaned heartily, nonetheless. 

"Where's Madam Pince?" Hermione asked, from a few seats down. 

Ron and Harry followed her point to the seat of the librarian's chair and saw a new faculty member sitting there. 

"Dunno," said George, but he elbowed Fred sitting next to him. "But she's a looker, eh?" 

"And she's actually smiling," Fred said. "I thought that was against Library Policy. Isn't it?" 

The new librarian was looking around her surroundings with evident interest, and was smiling broadly. Harry didn't think she was all that pretty, but he could see that she was a definite improvement to Madam Pince. Her dark hair had been woven into a thick braid that lay over her shoulder, and she was wearing the sapphire robes of her position. 

"I hadn't heard we were getting a new librarian," Hermione complained. "Who is she?" 

"What do you mean?" Asked Ron. "If the great Hermione doesn't know, how can we mortals possibly be expected such knowledge?"At Hermione's dark look he smiled innocently. 

Harry noticed something odd about the new faculty member, however. Not only was no one speaking to her, each of them seemed to be in various stages of upset. Professor Flitwick was alternately covering his face with his hands and throwing the woman looks of dismay. Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch were whispering animatedly, and were also throwing the woman looks, though they seemed more curious than anything else. Professor Snape, however, was staring ahead with a virulent scowl on his face. Whatever had the teachers in a fit, Snape seemed the most obviously angry about it. So much so that the new professor of the DADA was having a hard time getting his attention. The new DADA was also female. Harry didn't think she looked much like a threat against dark magic, though. She had long, flowing blonde hair and a serene look that made her look regal next to the other teachers. She looked more like a princess than any teacher Harry had ever seen. She finally managed to get Snape's attention with a tug at his sleeve, and he leaned closer to hear what she was saying into his ear. It must have been about the new librarian as well, for Snape followed her discreet glance and frowned. 

"New Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well," Harry said. 

"But there's always a new DADA, isn't there?" Ron said blithely. "When's the last time one of them lasted more than a year?" 

"Yeah," said George. "I've never known any of the other faculty to change, really. " 

"Nope," agreed Fred. "Thought they were all fixtures. But if we're talking lookers, that one's got my vote" 

"Ssssshhh," Hermione hissed. "They're bringing in the First Years. " 

No matter how many Sorting Ceremonies he sat through, the process was always exciting. It wasn't just the perverse satisfaction of seeing the apprehension on the faces of the new students, which always reminded Harry of his own experience with the hat. He'd narrowly avoided being placed in Slytherin during his own sorting. It was also novelty of seeing who their new additions would be. This year, the House of Griffyndor managed to acquire five new students. Harry lost track of who was assigned to the other houses, though. There seemed to be more First Years this time, for some reason. 

At the end of the ceremony, the school began their traditional feast. Harry mostly forgot about the new faculty additions, aside from noting that the new librarian had yet to speak to anyone else at the table. He found this oddly disturbing. 

After the feast, Dumbledore stood and made his customary announcements. He looked the same as ever, but Harry was alarmed to see how much difficulty the old wizard was having. He seemed a little unsteady on his feet, and his voice trembled a little as he spoke. He gave the usual warning against going into the forest outside the school, and instructions from Filch against wandering around the school after hours. Then Dumbledore introduced the new teachers. 

"Over the summer, we experienced the unexpected loss of our dear librarian, Madam Pince," Dumbledore told the assembly. "Not to worry, she's merely retired to America since the birth of her new granddaughter. However, we are extremely fortunate to have found such a highly qualified replacement on short notice. Please welcome Madam Rosewood to Hogwart's. "The crowd applauded politely. The faculty applauded as well, but less enthusiastically. 

"Also joining our staff is the new professor of the Defense of the Dark Arts, Professor Wermut," Dumbledore continued. "I managed to lure her away from Bloodswroth, our sister school in Germany. Please welcome her as well. " 

Harry noticed that the faculty seemed to welcome Professor Wermut much more warmly. Professor McGonnagall even smiled at her thinly. The blonde professor nodded graciously in acknowledgement. 

"Very good," Dumbledore said. "Now, before we retire, let us sing the Hogwarts school song. " 

Later, as Harry was helping to escort the students back to the Griffyndor rooms, he wondered what it was about the librarian that the rest of the faculty evidently found so objectionable. He figured he would find out soon enough though. It was impossible to keep secrets at this school. 

%%%%%%% 

At Dumbledore's request, Catherine Rosewood escorted him back to his rooms after the festivities. Madam Pomfrey had been the first to his chair after the school song had been sung, but he had waved her away, and motioned for Catherine to come to his side. Catherine had ignored the disapproval on the nurse's face as she took the old wizard's arm. They walked in silence until they reached the Dumbledore's office, with adjoined his room. The wizard waited until she closed the door softly behind them before he asked her, "So how are you getting along so far?" 

"That's what I was going to ask you," she told him. 

"An evasion worthy of a Slytherin," he replied with a smile. "So?" 

"Well, no one's poisoned my tea yet, if that's what you mean," she answered. "But I don't expect to be getting any housewarming presents. " 

"Give them time," he said, sitting in his most comfortable chair with difficulty. "There has never been a Muggle allowed to hold a faculty position at Hogwarts before, and chances are, there never will be again after this. But extreme situations call for extreme measures. " 

"It doesn't help that I'm American, I think. I managed to catch a little conversation between Professor Flitwick and Madame Sprout before the first faculty meeting a couple of weeks ago. I'm not sure which they found more galling. "Catherine said, leaning against the corner of Dumbledore's desk. 

"Hrmmm. I can only imagine," Dumbledore mused. 

"Wait until they find out why I'm really here," she said with amusement. 

"Well, it's not as though you aren't really a librarian. " 

Catherine laughed. "Yeah, well. I haven't been a librarian, strictly speaking, for a long time now. But don't worry. I'm still current in my skills. You'd be surprised how handy my government finds my information retrieval skills. "She spoke with a slight trace of irony. 

"Amazing the things you Muggles can do," Dumbledore said. Catherine was struck again by the way the people here simply ignored the outside world. She was aware that many of their own students came from "Muggle" parentage, but it seemed all that was of any concern to those who weren't magical in some way faded from importance after they were educated at one of these schools. It was like becoming members of another species. 

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," she replied tartly. "The world has come a lot farther along than any of my superiors told you, you know. Even more than they will even tell their own people. Even I'm on a need-to-know at times. " 

"Need-to-know?" Dumbledore asked curiously. 

"Sometimes they don't tell me the whole story. Just what will get me though the job," she answered. 

"Ah. Of course. Such is the art of war," the old wizard said tiredly. 

"This time, hopefully the art of peace," she said. "But don't mind me. Sometimes I forget how cynical I really am. " 

"I worry, though," Dumbledore said tiredly. "I fear I will not be able to protect you much at this point. " 

"With any luck, I'll be able to find the tome quickly. But," she got up from the corner of the desk and came forward to put one hand on the old man's shoulder. "I've had a lot of training. Between that and the chip, I should be ok. American ingenuity, you know?" 

"Resistance to magic," Dumbledore scoffed. "Your people were always imaginative. " 

Catherine wasn't sure if he meant Muggles again, or Americans, but she said, "Well, blame it on Hitler for recruiting those wizards. And blame yourselves for not allowing anything magical to become public. 'Muggle' governments always do get carried away with covert R&D when they perceive something as a threat. And a threat often means something they don't understand. " 

"Yes," Dumbledore agreed. "There's wisdom in much of what you say. In this case, I hope your 'technology' works. " 

Catherine grinned in amusement. "Trust me, so do I," she said lightly. "Especially with the looks Snape's been giving me. " 

"I trust Snape with my life," Dumbledore told her, "but be careful of him. When he is suspicious, he can be very crafty. " 

Catherine nodded. "I'll watch him. But now, I think, I'll leave you to save your strength. "She had noticed his pale countenance growing even whiter during their conversation. "I have a full day of indexing tomorrow. " 

She rose and started to leave the room. 

"Catherine," Dumbledore said quietly. 

"Yes, Albus?" 

"Be careful. "He told her, "But hurry. " 

She frowned at him. He looked so small and frail in his chair that she was reluctant to leave him. But he leaned back and closed his eyes in his chair, and she realized he just wanted his peace at the moment. 

"Good night, Albus," she told him. She closed the door quietly behind her. 

Not tired in the slightest, Catherine went outside after leaving Dumbledore. Finding a quiet spot on one of the balconies facing the inner courtyard, she leaned against a low wall, looking out toward the commons. There were no lights to be seen within the castle, and a cloud cover had slipped over the sky while they'd been feasting. 

What a subdued dinner that had turned out to be. She was almost sorry she'd indirectly spoiled the party. On the other hand, every group that wanted to survive had to learn to be flexible. Magical folk were no exception to that rule. 

Feeling safe from prying eyes, she pulled out a hard silver case. She flicked it open and pulled out a short, filtered cigarette and a lighter. The flame of the lighter lit her small features briefly as she drew on the cigarette, before she snapped the lid of it shut. Pale tendrils of smoke curled into the night air. She inhaled with pleasure and relief. 

"I daresay that's the kind of thing that will get you reprimanded at the very least," a lazy, well-cultured voice drawled from within a few feet of her. Only her training kept her from jumping in her surprise. Instead, she scanned the darkness for her unexpected companion. 

"I suppose it would, except that this is designated a smoking area," she smirked despite herself. She flicked the lighter again, holding it up to where a sign had been placed. It read, _Smoking Area, Staff only. _"I checked in advance. " 

The light had revealed Professor Snape's tall figure, clad in black robes and with his unkempt hair falling into his eyes. He moved forward to stand in front of her. She could barely see him, but she could feel his intense hostility. Then again, he'd made his feelings no secret from the first faculty meeting. She found him to be one of the most unpleasant people she'd ever encountered. 

"How clever," he muttered dryly. 

"What are you doing up so late, Professor Snape?" She asked him casually, trying to change the subject. 

"I might ask you the same," he responded. 

She sighed. 

"I'm still getting used to the time change. It's hard to sleep," she answered truthfully. 

"Really?" he drawled nastily. "Still?"She felt him moving closer. He was obviously trying to intimidate her, but all it did was make her aware that he at least didn't smell as unpleasant as his frumpy hair and permanent scowl made him appear. She couldn't tell what it was, but it reminded her of old leather. "What do you want here?" he asked her rudely. "Truthfully. " 

"I didn't know Slytherins could be so straightforward," she taunted. 

"You don't know a lot of things about this place," he countered. He added darkly, "What could a Muggle know about the affairs of magic?" 

"I know I don't like your tone," she parried. 

"If you think you can undermine—" 

"Professor Snape," she interrupted, "I'm here to catalog your library properly, and to make it easier for everyone to find whatever information anyone would like to find. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Dumbledore. I don't know why this is causing so much of an uproar. "She flicked a long line of ash over the wall, and took another nonchalant drag from her cigarette. 

She felt him shift to lean one hand on the wall next to her. She refused to back away, and decided to deflect him with his own strategy. She straightened her back and brushed him to one side with her elbow as she moved to lean against the wall a few feet away. It was meant to be a dismissive gesture. 

Instead of allowing her retreat, he followed her movement. He leaned over her shoulder so closely that she could feel his breath in her hair as he said, "No matter how you've managed to blind the old man, I can tell you that no one else will be so easy. What did you do to him, Mudblood?Bat your eyelashes?Swish your hips?Or maybe something more appealing?" He insinuated softly. 

"Oh ye of little faith," she replied caustically. "What could a Muggle possibly do or say to ensnare a wizard?Hrm?"Taking Snape off guard, she turned to one side so she was facing him. "Or is this your way of coming onto me?" 

Snape startled backward the slightest degree, then decided to press the advantage of his stance. "So now we see what our exalted headmaster really likes," he insulted. He surprised her again by reaching out his hand to touch her chin lightly. "Does he keep you all to himself?Or are you free for the taking?" 

Catherine caught the hand holding her chin and twisted his fingers so he was forced to step backward. He grunted slightly, but she could feel him trying to break the hold. "Albus Dumbledore is an old friend of my family's, from before you were born, you jerk," she lied smoothly. "If you want to talk reasons not to trust, maybe I should be asking a few questions about you. " 

He grew dangerously still. She'd hit some kind of nerve there, she was sure. He began to mutter something under his breath, and presumed he was trying a spell. 

"I can't hear you. If that's an apology, you're going to have to say it louder," she said mockingly. 

He stopped, shaking his head once as though he were confused himself. "Release me," he commanded. 

"Apologize for insulting me," she countered. 

He muttered some more under his breath. Growing tired of the game, Catherine decided to give him some encouragement. She gave his fingers a sharp tug upwards. He let out a muffled cry, barely audible. "Who are you?" he asked her, with an edge of curiosity … and what else?Respect? 

"This conversation isn't going anywhere until—" 

"All right!" Snape retorted in frustration. "I most sincerely and humbly apologize," he said sarcastically. 

"Well, you could have been a little more gracious," she said, letting him go. "But I get the impression that actually is your good side. "She tried not to sound too amused, but was finding it difficult. 

Snape brushed his clothing back into place in the dark beside her. She felt him start to move away but said, "Severus," 

"I beg your pardon?" He answered in haughty disbelief at her gall. 

She was embarrassed by her own slip. He hadn't given her permission to use his given name. "I'm sorry … Professor Snape … it's just … " 

"Yes?" 

"It's different in America. Given names are more the rule than the exception. " 

"I meant, what do you want, Madam Rosewood," Snape corrected her impatiently. 

"Ok. Look. I know we got out of hand just now … but … I don't want this to be our relationship," she sighed impatiently at her own wording, even as she felt him bristle. "Our _professional_ … I mean … teacher-librarian … relationship. I'm willing to be all courteous and English about it, if you are. " 

"You have absolutely no grasp of the English language, do you, Madam?" He observed, as though amazed. "Much less any concept of the traditions of this school. " 

She paused, waiting for more of an answer to her overture, and then realized she wasn't going to get one. "Fine," she said. "Just do me a favor and let me do my job, and we'll get by. " 

"No one is going to believe you're here to merely catalog that library," Snape told her angrily. "No more than I do. I will find out your true purpose here. And believe me, you will regret ever crossing my path. " 

"I already do," she answered tiredly. She flicked the smoldering tip of her cigarette aside safely and pushed the stub into her pocket to dispose of it in her room. 

Without another word, she brushed passed him, and made her way back to her suite. As she got ready for bed, she fought her urge to curse and rant to herself in anger. Still, her last thought before she finally drifted to sleep was about Snape. _Arrogant bastard. _

%%%%%%% 

Harry slid the invisibility cloak off his head, dropping it to the floor before he kicked it under his bed. He quickly slipped between the magically warmed sheets. Ron was fast asleep, unable to stay awake long enough to find out what Harry would have discovered during his sleuthing. 

Harry still couldn't believe what he'd seen. 

Snape had tried two different spells on her. _Imperious _was one. He couldn't hear the other, but neither had had any affect on her at all. If Catherine Rosewood was truly a Muggle, then how had she evaded those spells?Only a very powerful witch could have deflected those, but she hadn't so much as chanted anything in response. 

The new librarian wasn't going to be like any other librarian he'd ever heard of, Muggle or not. And now, he wasn't any more sure than Snape appeared to be that she could be trusted … with or without Dumbledore's approval. 


	2. Getting Started

_Tori-- Thanks for the review! Re: Madam Wermut. I do intend to get back to her to flesh her out a lot more, but didn't have the opportunity to do much of that in the first scene she appeared. As a matter of fact, I'll take your advice & add more on her now! Btw, through my own fault, I lost your email. If you would re-post it, I would be glad to update you as requested. Sorry!_   


**Chapter Two – Getting Started**   
_***All warfare is based on deception. – Sun Tsu***_

Catherine was consulting the library's finding aids, checking the indexes against the actual holdings in the stacks when she heard Dumbledore call her name from the front of the room. She almost tucked her quill into the ponytail she'd made of her hair, until she remembered this was not an ordinary pen. She laid it on the table, and went to meet the headmaster.

As she turned the corner of the last stack, she said, "Albus?" 

He was standing by the reception desk, peering at her laptop curiously. He looked up at her briefly before returning his attention to the small screen. "You shouldn't have this in full view of anyone who may come into the library," he told her reproachfully. He still looked as tired as he had the night before. 

"I was told that I couldn't have any Muggle equipment that had been enchanted. I didn't realize I couldn't have anything technological. Besides, doesn't that just negate the whole point?" she asked. As she was wondering how long it would actually take her to try to improve this mess without a computer, he answered her. 

"That's not what I mean," he said. "There is enough …" he searched for the best word, "mistrust around here, you risk having it tampered with by less knowledgeable persons. "

She thought of Snape's warning. "I see what you mean. So, is this a social call?"She asked. She doubted that was his purpose. 

He pulled a wand from his robe, and as he swished it said, "Privatus. "A yellow, glittering cocoon rose from the floor to surround them both. 

"Cone of silence," Catherine said, enjoying her own joke. She didn't explain, but was sure he wouldn't get the reference to the old television spy spoof anyway. "Are you sure this will work with what I say?"

"What is more important is that it will work on those who may listen," Dumbledore replied. "How is your work progressing?"

"So far, everything seems to be in fair order, if you're just talking about finding what's listed in the indexes. But I tell you what … sorting through a few centuries' worth of differing opinions on how to cross-index—"

"Can you find the tome?" He interrupted. 

"Madam Pince's notes are pretty sketchy. She was right when she said you could search for a lifetime for some texts and never find them unless they wanted you to. I swear, half a dozen of the books I've re-shelved have practically walked back to where they were when I found them. "

Dumbledore chuckled. "They may have done precisely that. Creatures of habit, you know. I don't envy your job. When I told Madam Pince what I was looking for, she said the enchantments on those volumes were such that even with her thirty years experience in this library, she could look for a year and possibly remain unsuccessful. "

"And you want me to find them in a few days," Catherine mused grimly. 

"I'm hoping your—" he gestured at her left ear, "technology and your skills are as effective as you claim. "

"Ho, boy," Catherine sighed good-humoredly. "Beware professional exaggerations, right?" 

Dumbledore smiled. "We will prevail," he told her. But she wondered if he was trying to convince her, or himself. "I also hope your tip withstands anything Voldemort may send to impede you. " 

"Tip?"Catherine asked. 

"The technology …" he answered, looking helplessly confused. 

"The chip. It's a microchip. "She wondered if he were starting to lose his hearing. She would have to make sure she was facing him whenever she spoke to him. "I think it will be ok. I've already had it tested once so far that I know of," she said grimly. 

"With Snape, last night," he confirmed with a nod. 

"How did you--?"Her eyes widened. He must know everything that went on in this school. It was full of spies, evidently. That made her extremely uncomfortable. 

"I'm sure he will continue to watch you," he informed her, his eyes inexplicably twinkling. 

_Well Snape can go kiss his own ass,_ Catherine thought rebelliously. Aloud she said, "I'm sure you're right. But, believe me, I can handle him. " 

"Don't underestimate him, Catherine. He is capable of dark things," he said mysteriously. At her sharp look he added, "Don't fear. I was truthful when I told you that I trust him. But he will stop at nothing until he knows where you stand. Still, I only managed to convince the Ministry of Magic that you were useful in finding this tome. They couldn't conceive of an army of Muggles inoculated against the force of any magics," he told her solemnly. "I'm not sure I hardly believe it myself. " 

"In any case," she said. "Once I have mapped out exactly what you have or don't have according to your indexes … I'll be able to work from there. This collection is fairly large, though. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have said you should give me about two weeks for the major works. But, I'll take a few shortcuts. " 

The old wizard nodded. She could tell he would like to have heard it would take less time, but accepted her judgment. "Very well. I shall let you get on with it then. " 

"Thanks, Albus," she said affectionately. 

He smiled, squeezed her hand, and said, "Finite incantatem. "The bubble of light around them dissipated and he left the library. 

%%%%%%% 

Late again. 

Harry followed Ron into Madam Wermut's DADA class at almost a dead run, his robes billowing behind him, as were Ron's. Why were they always late for the first class of each semester?Even as he asked himself this question, Harry knew the answer. Because scouting out the ways to sneak into the forbidden areas after hours was far more fascinating than most any class ever was. He saw their seats at almost the same time Ron did, and they each threw themselves down into the chairs, clutching their books and scrolls. 

Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter, I presume?"Madame Wermut said from the front of the class. The two young men looked up at her to see her standing with her arms crossed, wand in one hand, and watching them impassively. 

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered breathlessly. "We wer—" He was about to give her the excuse he and Ron had invented, but she interrupted him. 

"Irrelevant," she said sharply. "Five points from Gryffindor apiece, and you will each write an essay on the merits of punctuality due tomorrow morning--" She paused. "At five minutes **before** the hour in order to make up the time you have cost us. " 

Ron and Harry exchanged long, horrified looks. Detention before class?Was she mad?Harry returned his attention to the professor. On her aquiline nose, a pair of small gold-tone glasses was perched precariously as she looked over the rims at him. She had the palest blue eyes Harry had ever seen; so pale they looked unreal. 

"Now. If I may continue?" she asked sarcastically. Without waiting for an answer, she said, "As I was saying, before our interruption," she raised one eyebrow meaningfully. "In your first several years, you have been taught how to engage and counter a number of important spells and deadly creatures. These are important in your understanding of the Dark Arts, for to know one's enemy, one learns about oneself. However, for the first trimester of this school year, I will instruct you on how to apply the knowledge you have. The outcome of any battle, any war, or any struggle depends on one's ability to utilize fully one's strengths and to exploit fully the weaknesses of one's enemy. This is a habit developed through practice and discipline. " 

Ron slowly slid a piece of paper next to Harry's arm. Harry hadn't even noticed this friend scribbling. The note read, "Snape's twin sister … Separated at birth?"Harry pretended to cough in order to stifle his laugh. 

Professor Wermut uncrossed her arm, and lay her wand down on her desk. "I am of the understanding that before this year, you have had little experience with the practice of the theories taught in class. I believe there used to be a Dueling Club, which ended after the departure of Professor Lockhart several years ago. I intend to revive this club, not just for extracurricular activity, but for the purpose of providing a lab during which the additional spells and principles taught in this class may be illustrated and countered in context. " 

Ron and Harry exchanged looks again, this time mixed with excitement and a little worry. Harry slid a look over to Draco Malfoy, his fellow student and long-time nemesis, of a sort. Draco was smiling smugly, and curled his lip contemptuously when he caught Harry's eye. It was an expression Harry had seen on Snape's face often enough that he realized Draco had copied it perfectly. "Oh, for Heaven's sake," Harry breathed, almost soundlessly. Had the whole world turned Snape Mad? 

He sighed, and endured the rest of the class impatiently. Quidditch practice never seemed so far away. \ 

%%%%%%% 

"So, how did Quidditch practice go?" Cho asked, taking Harry's hand in hers as they sat together on a secluded set of stairs. They were seated under Harry's invisibility cloak. 

"Charlie's going to be a beast of a coach, but I like him," Harry answered. He squeezed her hand, and put his arm around her. "How was your day?" 

"No problems, except for that ten points off Ravensclaw in potions class," she answered grumpily. 

"Well, that's not your fault," Harry said. "How were we supposed to know you had to shave the hair off that mushroom before we put it in the cauldrons? You just happened to get to that stage first. Otherwise, we all would have been sporting moustaches right about now." Harry affectionately tickled the thick handlebar moustache Cho was presently afflicted with. "What did Pomfrey say?" 

"It'll wear off in a day or so, but that arse Snape told her not to take it off me. I swear to the gods … someday … it wouldn't be so bad, I guess, if I could shave it off. But it won't let me," she complained. 

Harry grinned at her swear word. She'd seemed to have picked up the habit from her friends over the summer. He thought it sounded funny coming from someone so feminine, but he didn't have the heart to tell her. 

"By the way," she continued, "I thought you were going to avoid Potions this year." 

"I was. But when Professor McGonagall saw my courses she talked me out of Magical Creatures again. She said I might like Hagrid better than Snape, but that with my talents Potions would do me more good in the long run. I guess she's right." Harry told her. 

They heard some murmuring and the shuffling of feet down the hall from where they sat. Harry put his finger to his lips to quiet Cho, and they scooted to the far side of the stairs. Professor Wermut and Professor Snape appeared at the bottom of the steps, where they both paused, looking up at where he and Cho sat. They obviously had expected to see someone there, and seemed surprised to find no one there. 

"I was sure I heard voices," Professor Wermut said edgily. 

"No doubt, you did," Snape told her, his narrow look implying that he'd heard something too. "Leave it to Filch. There isn't much up those stairs except the Auror's classroom, in any case. So. You were saying?" 

"Yes. I agree with you. The new librarian does seem quite suspicious, but do you really believe that Dumbledore would allow someone so untrustworthy into his employment?" Wermut asked. 

"It's not unheard of," Snape said dryly. 

The professor said something softly in German. "Then he is a fool. If you cannot trust a man's judgment, you cannot trust the man. Good intentions or no." 

Harry could tell this comment displeased Snape greatly. He straightened, and looked down at the blonde with disapproval. "You underestimate Dumbledore. He is one of the greatest wizards I have ever known." 

Wermut sniffed. "All this because he was feared by the Dark Lord. Perhaps when he was younger, and stronger, this was true. But even you must see he has made many mistakes in the last several years. Dangerous mistakes. Everyone abroad can see this. The English cling to their heroes too closely. It is naïve." 

Harry and Cho exchanged raised eyebrows at her boldness. Hardly anyone spoke to Snape in this brusque manner. Snape dealt it, but everyone knew he couldn't take it. Snape, however, just seemed to sag in acceptance of Wermut's assessment. "He usually has his reasons," Snape answered, but without his usual hauteur. 

"I'm sure," Wermut answered ironically. "This American, however, may be our undoing. She should be watched. You made a mistake when you spoke to her last night. We cannot afford to alienate her." 

Snape stretched his arms elegantly and pulled his robes closer around his shoulders. "I know what I'm doing," he told her icily. "If all goes as we discussed, she will still be gone by Christmas." 

"Ausgezeichnet," Wermut said approvingly. "Let us not forget to find out why she is here before we act, however." 

"Why does he trust her so much?" Cho breathed so softly, Harry almost didn't hear her. He shrugged. 

Wermut put her hand up to rest on Snape's arm. "We will work together mein freund." 

Snape astonished both Harry and Cho by taking Wermut's hand and lifting it to his lips. "Why else do you think I sponsored your selection so avidly? When Dumbledore revealed his list of choices, I knew immediately." 

Professor Wermut smiled, and Harry was reminded of his first impression of her. She looked like a radiant fairy princess when she was pleased. She took the crook of Snape's arm and started to lead him down the hall again. "Let us discuss the Dueling Club-" she was saying as they walked away. 

Harry slipped out from beneath the cloak and risked tiptoeing down the stairs to see which way they were going. The couple turned to the left down a side passage as he peered around the corner. 

"Harry!" Cho whispered intently. He looked back, but saw nothing but empty stairs. He felt her press against his side. "Let's go back before we're missed," Cho told him. 

"Don't you want to know what's going on?" Harry asked her. 

"Of course I do, but it's too dangerous to follow Snape right now," she answered. "They'll be too watchful." 

"Why don't we go see what that new librarian's up to, then?" He grinned at her. 

"Go do your homework, Harry. Let Dumbledore see to this," she told him firmly. 

"But he doesn't know-" 

"How do you know he doesn't? C'mon, let's go back," she said, pulling him forward. "Forget about it, ok?" Harry sighed and let her drag him back toward the student dorms. He bet he could talk Ron or Hermione into a little excursion later, anyway. "All right," he said. "I'm following you." 


	3. Alliances

**Chapter Three: Alliances**  
_***Friendship is but another name for an alliance with the follies and the misfortunes of others. Our own share of miseries is sufficient: why enter then as volunteers into those of another? - Thomas Jefferson*** _

Catherine's keyboard clacked busily as she communicated with her superiors. 

_CR: Will be submitting a report soon. The staff here is uncooperative, and somewhat hostile, as expected.   
MD: Estimated time for completion?  
CR: Hard to say. The AMDF chip makes the job both easier and harder.   
MD: What about the training from the MoM?   
CR: The Ministry of Magic was uncooperative as well. There is a prevailing belief that those who do not practice magic are not a threat, less than capable.   
MD: Makes our job easier, should we need to intervene.   
CR: Affirmative. Active intervention should not be required, however. Out. _

Catherine heard the library door softly open and close, and snapped shut the lid of her laptop. _We are prepared to intervene_. Catherine wondered if Albus knew what kind of devil his people had made a deal with. 

"Hello?" she said, not seeing anyone come around the first rows of stacks. "May I help you?" 

Hermione Granger peeked around the corner of a shelf of books. "It's just me," she said. 

She was still a little timid, Catherine thought. "Come on in. What do you need?" Catherine asked. 

Hermione looked as though she was about to say something, then clamped her mouth shut. Instead she said, "I need _Numerology and Linguistics_, it's for Arithmancy." 

Catherine waved her hand at the girl to come forward. "I just ran across that one this afternoon. Come on and we'll get it together." 

Hermione looked shocked. "Aren't you just going to retrieve it for me?" 

"Then you won't know where to find it next time, will you?" Catherine asked. "Especially if it's on one of those late-night library raids." 

"How-I mean, what do you mean?" Hermione stammered. They reached the shelves containing the books on Arithmancy, and Catherine ran her fingers over the bound volumes. 

"Just because you think the library's empty, doesn't mean it is, Hermione," Catherine told her ominously. Then she winked at the girl. "As a matter of fact, I was going to ask Dumbledore if he would allow you to work as my part time assistant, if that's agreeable to you." "Your-are you joking?" Hermione's eyes grew round and eager. 

"Look, Hermione. I know you went into the Restricted Area at least once so far this term." At Hermione's blush she added, "Yes, that's right, and I have notes from Madam Pince that she was aware of a few incidents herself." She took down the title Hermione was searching for and gave it to her. "I would rather know for myself that you've been trained to go in there properly, if you're going to do it. I have had a couple of run-ins with those little pieces of-those volumes in there. I don't want you getting hurt." 

"Well, how do you protect yourself?" Hermione asked curiously. "If you're a-" She stopped, and lowered her eyes. 

"A muggle?" 

"Actually … yes," the girl conceded. 

"I arm wrestle them," Catherine told her humorously, then remembered the book _Snares and Crawling Vines_, which had included figures designed to literally illustrate its material. Arm wrestling, indeed. "I'll talk to Dumbledore and Professor McGonnagall, and let you know what they say. How's that?" 

Hermione smiled brilliantly. "I'd like that very much," she told Catherine. 

"Good. Ok, off you go then. Don't want you to be late for class." 

"Thank you ma'am!" Hermione bounded away, clutching her books against her chest. 

Catherine shook her head and chuckled. There went a potential librarian, if she had anything to do with it. She looked at her watch. Now, though, it was time for the evening meal with the other faculty members. All those smiling faces, she thought to herself. "Happy, happy, joy, joy," she muttered aloud. 

She collected her laptop to return to her room, and left the library. She had taken only a few steps down the dimly lit hallway when she spotted Snape's black robes billowing toward her. He appeared to be on his way to the library. As he reached her, she asked, "Can I be of service, Professor?" 

He stopped and peered down at her, looking as though he'd accidentally swallowed a gnat. Finally, he said with difficulty, "As a matter of fact, I have come to find you." 

"Me??" She asked, almost afraid to ask what he wanted. 

"Yes. It seems … I … " He was faltering for words, but Catherine had no possible way to intuit what he was trying to say. So she waited. Snape found he couldn't meet her eyes. He looked, instead, at the portrait of one of the wizards on the wall beside them. The old man was smirking at him, and waved for Snape to continue. Snape looked away from the old wizard as well. "Our conversation the other night. I said some things …" 

"Snape," Catherine said sharply. "Don't you apologize to me." 

He snapped his attention back to her face, a scowl on his face, "I'm trying to …" 

"I know what you're trying to do," she told him scornfully. "And just stop it." 

He raised one eyebrow skeptically. "And what do you think I'm trying to do?" 

"You can watch me. You can ask questions to me or about me. But do _not_ try to kiss my ass in some lame attempt to disarm me," she shook her head at him.

Snape's lips twisted back into a snarl. "You flatter yourself." 

"You came to me, Snape," she reminded him coldly. 

"I suppose it would be too much to expect a certain amount of grace from a …" He eyed her with reproach.

"From a Muggle?" she challenged. 

"From an American," he finished. "I won't make the same mistake twice." 

In an instant, Catherine realized her mistake. He had misunderstood her rejection of his apology. He had taken it personally. Knowing better than to change her tone, she said, "I just know you better than you think, Snape. You're better than that." He frowned in confusion. She explained, "You expect a certain amount of grace. I expect a certain amount of professional respect. I know you wouldn't give any other person in this castle the kind of apology you're trying to offer me. Not unless you were trying to manipulate me for something." A flicker of something passed in his eyes, and she caught the ghost of a smile play over his lips briefly before dying. He realized he'd been busted. "I'll respect you more for treating me like you do everyone else." 

"Then you should know I don't insult fellow faculty members," he said condescendingly. 

"Oh, bull," she retorted. "Everyone knows how you are. You're the company grouch," she couldn't help but laugh. "Actually, some of your more legendary comments are quite amusing. Like what you said to Trelawney last semester, calling her a 'moon-eyed psuedo-mystical poseur.' I've met her." Catherine laughed. "I think not everyone appreciates your frankness." 

Snape smiled. Catherine got the impression he was rather pleased, but it looked like an expression of cruelty. 

"Make no mistake," she said. "I don't appreciate mean-spirited insults, humor or not. I've been accused of being a bit grizzled myself, so I know that's a fine line sometimes. But you know as well as I do where that line is." 

Snape didn't like the feeling of being reproached, especially from someone he considered a subordinate. His scowl had returned. "I can see I've wasted a trip, then."

"Not exactly," she replied. "I'm not trying to antagonize you. But, I think we understand each other a little better now. " 

"You don't know as much as you would like to think," he told her. But his expression appeared more thoughtful. 

"You keep saying that," she said. "However, since you've apologized," she couldn't help but add smartly, "I'm sorry I hurt your…feelings, too." She raised her eyebrows and smiled innocently up at him. 

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. Not trusting himself to say another word he turned and stormed back down the hall the way he came. Catherine watched him leave, her smile turning to a grin. "Bad, Cat," she told herself lightly. Whistling, she continued to her room to freshen up before dinner. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

What do you think that one is up to?" Harry asked with a scowl. The three friends were sitting together at dinner, and Hermione had just gushed the news to her companions. 

"Harry! Why does she have to be up to anything? Just because she offered to let me help her?" Hermione protested. "Have you even talked to her yet?" 

"Well, it's just-" Harry started to say. "Hey, pass over those potatoes, will ya?" He asked Neville a few seats down. The bowl was passed over to him. 

"It's dead weird, that's what," Ron agreed. "What about the way she's always in there?" 

"Does seem like a good way of keeping track of you," Harry concluded. 

"What do you know?" Hermione sulked. "Sounds like you're just jealous to me." 

"Jealous?" Ron howled. "Are you joking? Oh, please," he pleaded sarcastically, "chain me to the library with all that dust and books. I never wanted to go outside again anyhow." He took a huge bite from a forkful of ham. 

"Maybe we can turn it around. Do you think you could get a look at that notebook of hers?" Harry asked Hermione. 

"I don't know anything about computers!" Hermione protested. Someone shoved a basket of bread into her hands. Without looking, she passed it on to Harry, who handed it to Gilly Wicket, one of the first years, on the other side of him. The basket continued down the line to its intended recipient. 

"Notebook? Computers?" Ron seemed curious. 

"That thing she's always typing on," Harry answered. "It's a Muggle device." 

"Oh, right," Ron said. "What does that thing do?" 

"Depends on what she keeps on there," Harry replied. "You could keep a whole library in one of those. More, even." 

Ron groaned in disappointment. "Forget it," Ron muttered, stabbing a piece of broccoli. "Hey! I didn't put this on my plate," he said in disgust, and shoved it aside. "It's just not my day." 

"What makes you think she has anything to hide anyway?" Hermione asked indignantly. 

Harry looked around him. No one appeared to be listening, but that was never truly the case. "I'll tell you later," he said in a softer voice. 

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Everything is always a conspiracy with you." She used a knife to cut herself a slice of ham with far more energy than necessary. 

"Well?" Harry persisted. "Are you in?" 

Hermione glowered at him. "I'll tell you later," she told him pertly.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% 

Catherine looked up from the scroll she was reading, startled. 

"Damn," she murmured, then bent her head to check. With these texts, you had to make sure what you thought you understood was really true. Not to mention making sure that it was still there a few seconds later. "No wonder they couldn't find it," she said. 

Rolling the scroll back up, she raced to Dumbledore's office. Knocking once, she burst into the room without waiting. It was empty. "Albus?" she called, tentatively. Suddenly, she was embarrassed at having entered without permission, especially when she heard a door closing softly. Madam Pomfrey had come from Dumbledore's chambers and was viewing her with evident dislike. 

"I need to speak with the Headmaster," Catherine said. "It's urgent." 

"He cannot be disturbed," the nurse told her coldly. 

"He'll want to hear this," Catherine assured her. "I must speak to him." 

"You misunderstand," Pomfrey said, a little sadly. "That would be impossible." 

"I don't have time for this," Catherine said between gritted teeth. She pushed her way past the objecting nurse, and jerked the door to the inner chambers open. There was no one in the room she could see, but the drapes to the four-poster bed standing to the side of the room were drawn. Catherine pulled her arm from Madam Pomfrey's insistent clutch, and moved to pull the heavy velvet aside. Dumbledore was lying beneath a load of blankets. His eyes close, and breathing shallow. "Oh, no," Catherine murmured. 

"Madam Rosewood, this is most unacceptable. If you do not leave immediately, I will be forced to summon Professor McGonagall," Pomfrey told her sternly. 

Catherine looked over her shoulder at the agitated nurse. "Go get her then," Catherine said firmly. Pomfrey huffed a bit, and then left the room. Catherine leaned forward, "Albus," she said gently. "Can you hear me?" His eyes flickered behind his eyelids, but he didn't rouse. "I've found it. It didn't take as long as I'd expected, but I can't get it without you. Please. C'mon." 

She could tell the old wizard was trying to wake, but there appeared to be something preventing him. If she could have had Pomfrey's help, instead of her animosity, the nurse may have been able to stimulate him enough to answer. Catherine swore in disgust. 

"Madam Rosewood," McGonagall said as she stepped into Dumbledore's bedroom. "Explain yourself!" The raven-haired witch adjusted the spectacles on her nose and strode forward angrily. Catherine considered asking McGonagall for the help the old wizard couldn't give her now, but the furious look on the witch's face alone told her that there was a very good chance she wouldn't be believed. 

"I'm sorry," Catherine said quietly. "There is no excuse." 

McGonagall rose to full height and clasped her hands together at her waist. "Then I suggest you go back to your rooms." It was an order. "We will most definitely discuss this later." 

Catherine smiled grimly, and rose from where she had been leaning. "I look forward to your visit," she deadpanned. And she allowed Madam Pomfrey to walk her out of the offices. Catherine rested on one of the pillars in the hall outside Dumbledore's office. Before she had arrived at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had given her the names of several witches and wizards he would call upon if something like this happened. At this point, she had no choice. She went to find the wizard at the top of Dumbledore's list. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% 

Catherine stood before the door of Snape's office and paused. She wasn't sure how he was going to respond to her request, and wiped her palms on her robes nervously. She had the brief thought that maybe she'd luck out, and he wouldn't be inside. Then she reminded herself that Dumbledore had picked him for this request for a number of reasons. 

She rapped on the door. It snapped open so fast, she couldn't help but blink. She wondered if he'd been standing just on the other side. 

"Well?" Snape drawled. 

"I'd like to speak to you. If you're free, Professor." She said coolly. Her fingers, hidden inside her robes, were cracking her knuckles quietly. 

He flicked his hair back with a toss of his head, and raked her with his eyes sharply. He looked behind her and, seeing nothing, nodded. Without another word, he stepped back and held the door open for her. His office was surprisingly warm, and she realized it was due to the rather large simmering cauldron on the table at the far side of the room. There was a slightly acrid smell in the air that was not exactly unpleasant, but which wasn't a scent she'd have used as an air freshener, either. 

Snape moved between her and the cauldron and looked down at her. "As you can see, I am quite busy. About what, pray, did you wish to see me?" 

"I was thinking over what we talked about earlier. Also, you've always said told me that you'd figure out why I was really here. I just thought I'd tell you. And ask your help." She had decided to simply state the problem, and to try not to let him lead her into a merry dance of wits. 

He raised one brow expressively. "Indeed? Decided to come clean, have you? And why should I take you seriously at all?" 

"Because I was hired by the Ministry of Magic, and by Dumbledore to find the Tome of Rowndwyn." The way he stilled, she could tell she'd caught his interest, and piqued his suspicions as well. Very softly he said, "And why would they trust that to," his eyelids narrowed disdainfully, "a Muggle?" He was so disapproving and so sinister, she couldn't help repressing a smile. "Do I amuse you, Madam Rosewood?" 

"A little." At his frown, she added, "Don't get me wrong. I do respect your abilities. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here. Dumbledore says you're one of the best wizards he knows. After himself, of course." Her lips twisted in a wry smile and she turned to scan the rest of the room. It was artfully cluttered with vials, murky glass containers holding unidentifiable lumps that she suspected were parts of things she wouldn't want explained to her, and stacks of scrolls. 

"You have yet to answer my question," he reminded her sternly. 

"I was hired to find the text, and I have found a way to it." She paused a moment to let that sink in to him. "But, as you probably know, the tome is enchanted. I can't actually get it without help." 

Snape paced the small confines of the room a time or two before asking, "You have found the way, but you haven't found the book." He repeated. 

"Right. I need magic for that. It's not actually on this plane, you see-" 

"Why not ask Dumbledore to do it?" He smiled, as though sure he'd caught her in a lie. Catherine found herself staring into Snape's dark eyes. She didn't look away. 

"Why don't you ask him that," she said quietly. If he didn't know how badly the old wizard was doing, she wasn't going to inform him. 

He nodded. "I shall." 

"Will you help me, or not?" She asked him, frustrated. 

"Why are you asking someone who obviously doesn't trust you?" He countered smoothly. Adding, "Not one whit." 

"I don't know if you've noticed, but no one here trusts me but Dumbledore. And he's-" She was going to say that he wasn't in a position to help her at this point, but thought better of it. "He can't help with this. Of the teachers here, I guess I could ask McGonagall, maybe Flitwick, but I'm asking you." 

"What makes you think you can trust me, rather than my very esteemed colleagues?" He asked sarcastically. 

"I know where you stand. You've never made it anything but plain. The others are too influenced by what Dumbledore might say or think if they're less than pleasant to me. I know you don't trust me, but from what I can tell … you're pretty much an equal opportunity asshole. I respect your honesty, as far as that much goes." He was obviously surprised by her answer, enough to cross his arms across his chest thoughtfully. Catherine decided to press her point. "Besides, if you're working with me, you'll be able to watch me more closely. I know you've considered that aspect." She was rewarded to see a slight smile cross his lips. 

"Hardly a convincing argument. If no one will help you retrieve the text, then you are not much of a threat, are you?" He said, but she sensed that he was relenting. He couldn't take the chance that she could persuade another, less suspicious, professor. 

"You're assuming that I have any interest in the tome. It's not for me. And, really, it's not for the Ministry of Magic." 

"Then for the Muggles you represent?" He retorted, gesturing dismissively with one hand. "Spare me." 

She surprised him yet again by chuckling good-naturedly. "Well, I'd be lying if I said there wouldn't be a lot of interest in what that book is reported to do. But, personally, I think it's right to keep the damned thing hidden. Who wants to live forever, right?" He inclined his head in a non-committal nod. "But it's not for my 'kind,' and it's not to keep Voldemort from retrieving it. It's for Dumbledore himself." 

Snape glowered at her dangerously. "What are you saying?" 

"I'm saying that when you go to talk to the head master about me, that you'll find out more than I'm willing to tell you here and now," she replied stubbornly. "And that's enough. You think about your answer. Tell me what you decide in the morning, but I can't wait longer than that. I have no idea how long it will take to collect that tome even with your help, and we don't have a lot of time." 

"There is still one question you haven't answered," she heard him say as she opened the heavy wooden door to his office. She closed it again, leaving one hand on the handle and waited. "Yes?" 

"Why did they pick a Muggle for this task?" He asked. He seemed more curious than condescending. 

"Because the spells hiding the tome were designed to bar the path of any magic intended to find it. Those spells didn't work on me," she answered simply. 

"That wouldn't be enough for the Ministry of Magic to allow you anywhere near it," Snape told her, pensive. 

"No, not that by itself. I think, though, that if the threat against the wizarding world wasn't such as it is, they'd have left Dumbledore out in the cold anyway. But, all things considered, there are a number of people there who seem to think the old guy is pretty necessary." She decided not to mention the pressures her own superiors had been placing on the Wizarding government. She could tell she had just horrified him with the implication she was making. At this point, though, she didn't care how much she was giving away. She had a gut feeling that this was the wizard she needed to accomplish her task, and if her hints helped to convince him, all the better. "Good night, Snape." Before he could answer, she pulled the door open again and left the office. _Well_, she thought, _that ought to give him something to think about. _

Suddenly, she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. She looked around her at the darkness, and hearing nothing, quickly returned to her rooms. 

She had changed into a nightgown, brushed her teeth, and had been lying between comfortable sheets, unable to sleep, when she heard a light rap at her door. She sighed impatiently, rose, and slipped on a plush cotton robe before padding over to see who it was. She opened the door a crack, and saw Snape. 

"That was fast," she said, opening the door a little wider. She didn't invite him inside, but he didn't appear to mind. 

"We'll start tomorrow morning, after my first potions class," he informed her. "Is that soon enough for you?" She thought of how Dumbledore looked last time she spoke to him. The old man's condition most likely explained how pale and sharp Snape appeared now. 

She nodded. "I'll be ready." 

"Tomorrow, then." He disappeared into the shadows, leaving her staring into the dark. 


	4. Know Thine Enemy

**Chapter 4**  
**Know Thine Enemy  
**_***We have met the enemy and they are us -- Pogo/Walt Kelly***_

At five o'clock in the morning, the sky above the walls of the courtyard was still black, though starless. Catherine Rosewood clutched her robes tightly against the chill and made her way to the Hogwart gymnasium, glad her boots were resistant to the moisture in the grass. Madame Hooch had actually been nice to her when she'd asked for the privilege to use the gym before classes were held each day. Catherine thought that Hooch was actually the kind of crusty old broad with whom she could share a few shots of tequila, chased by a large quantity of cigarettes, given enough time to break the ice.

She entered the spacious exercise room, ignoring all the equipment along the walls. Standing by a rack of nondescript brooms, she took off her robes, revealing a black t-shirt and pair of leggings. She removed her boots and socks, setting them on the floor under the hook where she'd placed her robes.

"Cat," said a voice in the shadows. "You have no idea how hard it is to catch you alone." Professor Priscilla Wermut emerged, impeccably dressed for the day already in a slim brown velvet dress topped by black robes. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a loose French twist. 

"So, how much did he tell you?" Catherine asked her companion. She started bending her arms behind her head one at a time, placing a light pressure on the elbow as she stretched.**

"Not as much as he should have, if he trusted me as much as I thought he would. But that just makes him harder to second guess. Is he protecting Dumbledore? Or just not revealing his hand?" Priscilla asked rhetorically. "He said we were right to suspect you, and that he would find out more today." 

"Don't ask me what to think," Catherine replied. "You're the chess-player here. I just do my job," she chuckled. "Say, you're not going to work out with me?"

Priscilla smiled. "I can't stay long. Even at this time of morning, it would be dangerous to assume we won't be seen together." She watched in amusement as Catherine began to stretch her legs in long bends. "So what **didn't** he tell me?"

"I've found the path to the tome," Catherine said. "And discovered that it's on another plane. What I didn't tell **him** is that I also know there's a big-assed ugly protecting it on the other side. That's partly why I've come in here to work out. I don't have the space in my rooms."

"Hrmm. Is there a chance he could be hurt?" Priscilla said, with a hint of concern.

"Dunno," Catherine admitted. "Depends on a lot of things. How big the big ugly is. Whether Snape can pull him out of the portal for me to get to it. Whether he's really the wizard Dumbledore said he is ... hard to say."

"I should be going into the portal with him," the witch said. "We would stand a better chance together, than him alone."

"I won't argue with you there," Catherine said pratically. "But, unless you convince him to tell you what he's doing, or unless you're ready to tell him that we're working together, I don't see how you'll swing that. Speaking of which: you still plotting to have me out by Christmas?" She grinned.

"With any luck, you might even be out by Thanksgiving. He really doesn't like you," Priscialla laughed.

"He doesn't like anybody," Catherine said. 

"He likes me," Priscialla countered smugly.

"Until he finds out you were playing him. I imagine he'll hold a grudge against you for that."

"Then let's not allow him to find out," Priscilla told her. Catherine shot her a shrewd look, and the witch said, "Well, I kind of like it here. It would be nice to stay when the assignment's finished."

"Are you getting sweet on that old grump?" Catherine asked playfully, standing to punch Priscilla in the arm lightly. "You dog."

Priscilla rubbed her arm, though the hit had not hurt. She frowned. "Sometimes, I'm truly reminded how--" she paused, searching for the right word.

"'Muggle' I am?" Catherine teased. "You'd be surprised how often I'm reminded that I'm a Muggle around here. I grew up in the American South, so I thought I knew prejudice. Guess the difference is that now I'm on the recieving end. It's really kind of annoying after a while."

"We cannot change who we are," Priscialla said stiffly. 

"Who said we had to? I have this funny idea that we could one day accept each other's differences without having to try to be the same," Catherine said. "But that's my problem, really. Always was too idealistic." A shadow of sadness crossed Catherine's face and she started punching the air savagely in front of her. "I really don't know how I got into this business," she said between grunts. _We all start out thinking we can change the world_, she thought bitterly.

"So he'll be in the library after his Potions class?" 

"Yeah." Catherine quit jabbing the air.

"I'll come by the library after my class, to check your status," Priscilla offered.

"Good idea. Never know when you might need reinforcements," she said, only half joking.

"I should go, but I have something to give you." Priscilla took a long sheathed sword from the folds of her robes. "Since they didn't let you bring your uzis," she smiled at Catherine's dourly pursed lips.

Catherine took the scabbard, and held it so that the edge of the sword would face upward. Slowly, with a practiced hand, she pulled the blade from the sheath. It was fashioned in the style of a Japanese katana, with a plain black hilt. The blade, however was gorgeous, ornamented with a strange mixture of Germanic, Celtic, and Japanese knots and scrolls. It had a lovely balance. Light, but with enough weight to give any strike some serious kick. "I've never seen anything like this," she whispered. She took a few steps aside and made an arc with her wrist, then held it out at arms' length. "I think I'm in love with you, Pris," she said, waggling her eyebrows. 

"A magical sword against an enchanted beast," Priscilla said with perfect seriousness, ignoring the librarian's joke. "It may be the only way you can prevail against it, not matter how well you fight."

"Hello? Anti-Magic Dampening Field behind the ear, here ..." Catherine said sardonically, pointing to her head. "Blocks any changes in the electromagnetic, harmonic, or aural fields within a yard's radius. I think it would also make my bed if it had arms and legs."

"It will work as any sword," the witch told her irritably. "But if the beast is resistant to mundane weaponry, find a way to impale it and let go of the blade. The magical damage will work whether it slices or not, as long as it touches the flesh of the enemy."

"Hrm. Cool. What kind of damage does it do?" she asked curiously.

"Poison damage, but not an ordinary poison. Magcially enhanced. Ironically enough, it's something Snape developed several years ago. He really is quite amazing."

"You like the Potions teacher," Catherine taunted in a sing-song voice. Priscilla huffed.

"Whether I do or not, is not the point. He will always be ..." she frowned. Catherine lowered the sword and studied Priscilla's troubled face. "Devoted to his work," Priscilla finished. 

"You're awfully sure about that, especially considering you haven't even flirted with him yet," Catherine said.

"That is none of your concern, Madame Rosewood," Priscilla answered with mock severity. "Just kill that beast."

"Yeah, it's not like I'm not really one to talk about how to catch a man. I don't even remember that last time I--"

Priscilla held up one hand, "I **really** don't wish to hear the end of that sentence," she told Catherine in aggravation. "In any case, I should be going. Good luck, mien freund."

"Thanks. I will see you later." The two women exchanged a significant glance. "Count on it, Pris." The witch nodded and slipped back into the shadows. She left without making any noise that Catherine could hear. She held up the katana lovingly. "Let's check you out, my little sweetie."

*******************

** A/N: I started this story knowing that the character of Catherine Rosewood would be a warrior, and figuring I would, at some point, add a scene in which she would be doing some kind of Tai Chi, or other exercise. Problem is, you can't really talk and work out at the same time in a work of text and have it make a lot of mentally "visual" sense. However, since sketching out this scene, I came across the work by Oktober Black "Muggle Baiting." She also has a muggle at Hogwarts doing exercises, although hers is written a little differently. Since she posted hers first, I felt a little funny posting my scene, but then decided, "Oh what the hell." So, here's a "cheers" to Madam Black for getting her idea up first, even though we each came to our ideas independantly. ... Btw, if you are over 17, and not put off by graphic sexual stuff ... she's got a dang good story going. Check it out!

A/N 2: Merryday & Nokomis ... thanks for the support! When I get such praise, it helps inspire me to continue. If you see something that doesn't ring true, let me know. Merry, be careful what you ask for ... I don't have any beta readers yet, and I like the idea. Heh.


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